


interview tactics

by couldaughter



Series: creatures that i briefly move along (teacher!jon au) [7]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Backstory, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25997587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couldaughter/pseuds/couldaughter
Summary: This year there were a few potential candidates for that position. She catalogued them carefully at the coffee-and-tea table before induction, eavesdropping as politely as possible on their conversations.“Don’t take this the wrong way,” one woman was saying, holding her teacup daintily above the saucer. “But, um, are you sure this is the career for you?”
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: creatures that i briefly move along (teacher!jon au) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815988
Comments: 52
Kudos: 592





	interview tactics

**Author's Note:**

> notes: this takes place chronologically before any other works in the series

Anne never looked forward to interviewing for the PGCE course. It wasn’t that the applicants were all unprepared, as such, but there was always at least one person who had clearly applied because they expected teaching to be an easy career, the kind of job that took six hours out of your day in exchange for six weeks of summer holiday and weekends off.

Those applicants never made it past the interview stage. She was very good at sniffing them out, which was why Liz kept making her do the first round.

This year there were a few potential candidates for that position. She catalogued them carefully at the coffee-and-tea table before induction, eavesdropping as politely as possible on their conversations.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” one woman was saying, holding her teacup daintily above the saucer. “But, um, are you sure this is the career for you?”

The man she was speaking to had immediately flagged himself up for Anne when he’d walked through the doors of E block. Long hair badly in need of a trim, ragged fingernails, and a collection of scars both faded and fresh which made Anne feel, honestly, a bit sick to think of. Lots of odd little pockmarks that might have been acne scars if they were half the size, a gash on his throat which could only have come from one thing.

Ex-criminals _could_ enter the profession, certainly, but the Disclosure and Barring Service would certainly have something to say about it.

He was clutching his own cup of tea like a lifeline, knuckles white, as Anne sidled her way closer. “I’ve spent the last decade in, um, archiving and librarianship,” he said, voice much more posh than Anne might’ve expected. “I never really considered teaching until recently, but it seemed like a good option for a career change. My work experience was very enjoyable.”

“Where was that?” Asked the other woman, curiously. She seemed more interested now, leaning in just slightly and fluttering her eyelashes. Anne glanced at the man’s hands - yep, married. And — burnt. She cringed slightly.

The man smiled, looking nostalgic. It made him look far younger, Anne thought. She’d put him in his late thirties when he walked in, maybe even early forties, but now — god, he looked young.

“Oh, it’s funny actually. Ended up being the school M — my partner went to. It’s up in Manchester though, you probably don’t know it.” He shrugged, slightly evasively, and sipped his tea. He looked like he was considering his next words carefully. “You’ve been a teaching assistant a while, then?”

Anne checked her watch as the two continued to chat. It was getting close to induction hour, which meant she needed to go and find her interview room.

* * *

The first group was a wash. Anne usually got through barely half of her prepared questions in the allotted time, just letting the conversation flow as she made notes on each candidate, but those four were absolutely useless. No consideration of children’s experience and perspectives, no understanding of the importance of the foundation subjects — if any of them made it in, it wouldn’t be off the group interview.

So she didn’t have high hopes for the second group, even when they filtered in and actually said good afternoon to her as they sat down.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” she said, nodding at each candidate. “I’m Anne, I’ll be leading this group interview. What I’m looking for here is less of a specific philosophy of teaching — don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to develop that on the course — than your understanding of why and how children’s learning and development is so vital. If you’ll all start by introducing yourselves? Name, age and one fact about yourself just to break the ice.” She smiled encouragingly.

First to go was the man she’d spent so much valuable eavesdropping time on earlier. He looked slightly less dishevelled now, glasses pushed up and his collar straightened.

“Jon Sims,” he began, voice still that smooth, almost mesmerising tone. “I’m, um, thirty-two. I have a cat called The Commodore.”

“ _The_ Commodore?” asked the man sitting next to him. “Can’t there be more than one?”

“There’s only one of the Commodore,” said Jon, somehow both amused and annoyed. His glasses slipped down his nose as he frowned. “She’s very good at catching spiders.”

“Sounds like a good cat to me,” offered the woman sat across from him. “I’ve got two, they’re called Salt and Pepper.”

“That is… very sweet,” said Jon, completely seriously. “Anyway, I think I’ve taken up enough time.” He sat back and, somehow, Anne _felt_ her attention drop away. She hadn’t noticed before but — it was difficult to look away, while he spoke. Something about him commanded attention, even in a corduroy jacket and denim shirt, glasses still slipping off.

“I’m Harry,” offered the man beside him. White, blandly handsome, well trimmed beard. “Twenty-two, just finished my degree in Sports Psychology.”

“Nadiya,” said the last candidate. Her floral headscarf fluttered slightly beneath the flow of the air conditioner. “I’m twenty-eight. I already mentioned my cats, so… not much else to offer.”

“Patently untrue,” said Jon, almost indignant.

Nadiya’s eyes widened. “Um, alright,” she said, bemused. “I suppose — I used to do gymnastics. I was quite good. County level.”

“That’s very interesting,” said Anne, bringing the group’s attention easily back to her. “And would certainly be useful in primary teaching.” She shuffled her notes, checking the list of questions on top. “That leads well into our first question — what made you want to become a teacher? And don’t worry about sounding cliché. They exist for a reason, and if that’s how you feel, it’s how you feel.”

Nadiya perked up slightly. Anne smiled — it was always nice to have people who came in with a vocation. It wasn’t the only reason to start teaching, but when you got those candidates it was very easy to tell.

“I’ve always wanted to teach,” she said, almost shyly. “My school wasn’t the best funded, or the best in Ofsted, but the teachers always cared so much about me and checked in with my family when we were going through a hard time. We moved here when I was four, so I started Reception with basically no English and there was never any question of leaving me out of things. I had interventions, I had books sent home and community visits organised. It was just — so caring. I want to, um, pass that on. Support kids like me, and help them achieve what they want to in life.”

Anne smiled even wider. She made a few notes as the group chatted about Nadiya’s time in school, then looked up as Harry offered a few words.

“I don’t know, really,” he said, apologetically. “I had a tutor for one of my modules who set me up doing an after-school club at a local primary, and I just — absolutely loved it. It was so cool, getting to help kids improve over time and know that it was partly me that helped them get there. But, I don’t know if I’m so into the idea of sitting with them in a classroom all day, ha.”

“Hm,” said Anne. Not the most promising for a full time teacher, she thought. She made another note, and sat back when she realised the group wasn’t talking. Jon looked thoughtful, but hadn’t said anything, and Nadiya seemed to be following his lead.

Just as Anne opened her mouth to move on, Jon spoke. “What’s stopping you?” There was something heavy about the words. They sat uncomfortably in the air for a moment before Harry replied.

“I never really liked being in the classroom as a kid,” he said. “I’m dyslexic, and I didn’t get assessed for a really long time. Almost failed all my GCSEs, but my English teacher really stuck by me and got me the help I needed. Still makes me anxious going past my secondary.”

Ah, thought Anne. That made a bit more sense. “That’s a sadly common experience,” she said. “But it could really help the children you teach, if they know that you know how they’re feeling. That empathy is vital in education.”

She glanced at Jon.

He was already looking at her, almost expectantly. She raised her eyebrows. “And you, Jon? What made you consider this as a new career?”

“Well,” he said, slowly. “As you heard earlier, I’ve been working in an office job for the past decade. It was never how I wanted to spend the rest of my life, but after I graduated I suppose I sort of fell into it. But the company I was working for shut down last year, and it left me feeling somewhat — adrift. So I spent a few weeks moping before my partner kicked me off the sofa and reminded me my life wasn’t over.” He chuckled, looking fond. “That was when I started thinking about what to do with my life, and I remembered how much I enjoyed school, when I was there.” He took a deep breath, and Anne realised she was holding her own. “I was… not the most social child, for a number of reasons, but my teachers were always willing to talk to me, recommend books, walk me through work I was struggling with. That kindness without expectation really stuck with me, I suppose. I’d like to give that to the next generation. It’s the least I can do.”

The rest of the interview went well. When it was over, Anne took her coffee break in her office, where she could check her notes. She hadn’t made many, she realised, about Jon Sims. She supposed writing anything down would just be stating the obvious. That man was determined to teach, and she wasn’t about to stop him. He’d be a great teacher, with some training.

Somehow, she just knew.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this way back before the first part of this series, and i liked it then (and still do!) but wasn't sure how accessible it would be considering it's just........ self indulgent outsider pov fic. and now i've posted six of those in this series so i figured a seventh wouldn't hurt!
> 
> disclosure and barring service (or DBS) is the background check adults are required to get for a number of jobs in the uk, especially ones working with children. there are a few different levels depending on the level of interaction you'll be having, and you have to renew them once a year as a teacher
> 
> still @dotsayers on twitter and tumblr. the accursed blue websites will not let me live in peace


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